


Mycroft

by Esbe



Series: Sketches [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5417294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esbe/pseuds/Esbe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft is an addict.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mycroft

**Author's Note:**

> At the start I would like to say a quick Hi! to Moonflower75 and naru894. You both have left a Kudos for each of my fics till date and I cannot thank you enough. 
> 
> I am sure there are others who have done the same. And I do love you all.

Mycroft is an addict.

He has always been.

He is just far better than the entire civil society at hiding it.

His first was food. He loved sweets. He ate them. A lot.

The governess complained to Mummy. Mummy didn’t say a word but she was upset. He could never stand to have Mummy unhappy. He had to desist.

But no matter what- he couldn’t. It wasn't easy staying away from sweets. It was no good. He needed to figure a way of making both happen. He would keep Mummy happy and he would eat sweets.

He observed the adults and formulated a strategy. He showed himself to be the quietest, sweetest, most obedient and innocent child the adults around him had seen. He fulfilled all adult expectations of him. He never did anything that said- _craves attention_. He did, however, ensure to subtly highlight each of what the adults termed- his _prodigious_ talents.

He could be found reading to Sherlock, practicing on the piano, coming back home with his clothes pristine. It helped that Sherlock had turned one and was already throwing loud tantrums. It also helped that he was the only one Sherlock calmed down for. Oh! he was good at it. So good.

How does one appreciate a quiet child who never demanded anything? They were soon rewarding him for it **with sweets**. The servants started it, then Mummy and soon even the governess.

Once again he could eat as much as he wanted and exactly what he liked.

He was eight.

*****

The next came when he was fourteen.

Suddenly his body craved human touch. His interests in reading, chess, languages, philosophy, history, music, all fell victims to the urge. For the first time, he couldn’t even eat properly.

But no matter how sharp the pangs, he couldn’t satisfy his craving. To all others at school, he was no more than an over-smart, plump, posh, git.

And he was completely friendless. He had no tactile relationships. For months he writhed in agony. 

Once again he strategised. He had allies though and debtors. So he bargained. He made deals.

It got a bit better.

He got better. Much better. He soon received two propositions where he did not have to bargain.

Then, one day, he brought an older boy to his knees simply by kissing him. It was heady.

He completely gave up sweets. It took him another year to lose enough weight and several experiments on potential targets to choose the right clothes, understand his own preferences, and determine the correct level of _dosage_. But eventually he mastered it.

He went berserk after that.

It was a game, a drug, a habit. Picking up partners, of any gender, marital status, or social rank, and making them crave his touch. The more impervious they were — the better, the higher the kick. He chose a variety of settings. He contrived to be in situations where there was all likelihood of being rejected.

Many of his partners were older to him. In some cases they were at great risk from the law. Some were plain dangerous. But they seemed unable to resist. All tried of course. But they never could. He made sure of that. Not one refused.

It could be an hour, or half, or an evening, or fifteen minutes. They succumbed. He got his hit.

He got all the touch that he craved and once again he had people begging him to take what he wanted.

It was fun. A tremendous high.

Two years.

Nobody ever knew. Mummy never even suspected. He was smart enough to keep it that way. He had learnt that lesson early.

Then, Sherlock found out. It had gotten a bit boring by then and far too easy. He stopped.

*****

At nineteen he discovered another drug.

It took him six years this time, but he now has a lifetime supply. He is after all the British government.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if theres a specific character (out of BBC Sherlock preferably) that you'd like me to sketch in words. I will try my best to write it.  
> Ta!  
> ______  
> So this is my take on parts of the internal workings of Mr. Mycroft Holmes.  
> I do believe that he has a true bad boy hidden inside. 
> 
> To me Mycroft is rather like his brother but he learnt very early on how to stay socially acceptable. Also, he is far in control of himself (loves control doesn't he). And of course it matters not to him if the world acknowledges that he is brilliant. After all the only person worth impressing is... you got it - himself.  
> _______  
> I hope that there were no terrible triggers there. If anyone found any of it disturbing then I do sincerely apologise. That was definitely not intended. Please drop a note and I will add tags.


End file.
